Only in Paradise

by Michelle Monkou

  After a long drink, Athena offered him a big smile.

  “Let’s get back to the truck. The porters may already be there.”

  “Oh, dear, I guess we’d better hurry,” she said.

  This time she led the way until they were outdoors. He waved at the guard as they walked past, toward the parking lot. Because of his work, most people on the island knew him. A perk was being able to park in a restricted area.

  “We’re here.” He stopped next to the truck that looked battered and oversize next to her slight frame. He moved to open the door for her, although it was unlocked.

  But she beat his chivalrous action by opening the door. She hiked up her skirt, stepped up and maneuvered one hip onto the seat. From where he stood, a long, slender leg remained in plain view. The toned muscles worked as she shifted into place.

  What the heck was wrong with him?

  Ogling women had its time and place—but certainly not while he was at work and not with a member of his own staff.

  Until now.

  His eyes shifted downward, sweeping from her slender ankle, up past her calf, over her knee, along the muscular definition of her thigh where her skirt obstructed any further viewing.

  Her throat clearing snapped his attention. His face warmed with embarrassment. This time he cleared his throat and focused on holding the door so that she could adjust herself in the seat. Once he closed the door, he walked around to the driver’s side and hopped in.

  “I have to head over to the loading area.” He repeated what she already knew. But for his sake, he needed to make idle chatter to regain control.

  She leaned back her head and wiped her throat.

  He wished that she’d stop. Besides actually erasing traces of her moist discomfort, he noted she had a long, graceful neck that suited her overall frame. He hit the brake, a little too sharply, to avoid rear-ending a car ahead of them, jerking both of them in the seats.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. He scrambled out of the truck and slammed the door shut. His argument with himself continued, as he muttered under his breath. She could be a stunner for all he cared. He didn’t need eye candy for the hard work ahead. And if she didn’t have the stamina, as he suspected, he’d gladly buy her a one-way ticket.

  The next time he had to fill a position, he planned to ask for a photo.

  Athena’s stomach growled. The soda had quenched her thirst, but now she needed food for the gnawing hunger. The long flight had sapped her energy, leaving her feeling like a half-dead plant, hoping for water after a long drought. Although relieved to arrive safely, she had difficulty soothing her nerves stretched thin from the mixed expectation of her final destination.

  On the one hand, a small stirring of excitement ignited her curiosity. However, she didn’t like feeling as if she’d abandoned her sister and friends on a lark.

  She peered out the truck window to see if he was almost done collecting the luggage. A number of large boxes were being loaded in the back. The vehicle shifted under the weight of its burden.

  Sweat prickled her forehead. In desperation, she pulled out her makeup compact to survey the true extent of the damage to her appearance.

  She groaned. It was better than crying. She pulled off the ponytail holder and fluffed out her hair. The volume had expanded under the humidity into a soft wavy mass. Around her eyes, the black liner branded to add sophistication and flair now transformed her into a raccoon. The warm beige foundation looked like wet putty on her face, sinking into the natural creases around her mouth and under her eyes.

  “What am I doing here?” Athena bit her lip to keep from tearing up. “This is so not me.” She didn’t want to be a quitter, but this experience called for a certain type. A type who could handle the thick, sticky humidity. Her scalp prickled from sweat. Her skin turned clammy under the clothing. “What would he do if I asked for my suitcase and headed back into the airport?” She laughed, a sound between pain and frustration.

  Thousands of miles separated her from what she knew. Her nerves zinged through her system as if on a caffeine run. She felt her pulse tapping a heightened tempo. All systems would return to normal if she turned and headed back to the plane.

  She struggled out of her jacket, pulling the damp blouse from her body. An air-conditioned hotel room would mean the world to her right about now.

  The driver’s door opened, startling her. Her new boss’s face came into view. From the first time she saw him, a frown seemed permanently etched on his forehead. “We’re all set.”

  And in an instant, she opted to maintain her silence. Maybe she wasn’t the first to have second thoughts upon arrival, but that didn’t mean that she had to give in to leaving, at least not right away.

  With a loud roar of the engine, the truck came to life.

  Her final destination was the Stella Maris School Project in El Paraiso, Santo Domingo. The foundation that funded the program recruited teachers mainly from the home island and added a teacher from the three main sponsoring countries, including one from the U.S. She had to commit to a year, but also had the option to renew the contract after a performance review. The strong core purpose of the school project pushed for closing the learning gap and providing alternate career choices. Her inner need to be of service intertwined with the mission. She wanted to have success with the students and to make her parents proud. As she took in the scenery and her imagination unfurled with various success stories, she was confident that her grandmother would nod her approval.

  She wiped her moist brow, wondering if the humidity would be the unknown variable to make her quit. This Paradise had the temperature of Hades.

  “We don’t have far to go. The island is only twelve miles long and six miles wide. Lunch will be ready by the time we get there. The school compound houses the teachers. Kids stay off-site with their parents, unless there is an extreme case and then we try to make room for a whole family. But most children have to help around their homes with tasks or other siblings, sometimes contributing to the family income. We get them for only four hours a day, excluding the lunch hour. We try to make those four hours count.”

  Athena soaked in all the information. She had reviewed the manuals that had been mailed to her in advance, but it didn’t take the place of meeting the students and bonding with the other teachers. Already several questions about the compound and the daily duties crowded her thoughts.

  As the truck continued to rumble down the narrow roadway, avoiding potholes, other drivers and the occasional livestock, she sensed that in a matter of minutes, she’d have her answers. On that note, she tried to settle back in the seat and enjoy the view. After all, she was in the Caribbean.

  “Despite the obvious poverty, this is a beautiful island with proud people.”

  Athena automatically nodded, startled by her boss’s voice: smooth, cultured, deep. She looked out at the landscape, taking in the vivid colors of the land. The people waved at the truck with bright welcoming smiles. At first she didn’t respond, but before long, she found herself waving back at the onlookers.

  “We’re crossing over the dividing line, heading into the Spanish side of the island. It’s all one government, but the people have made informal boundaries that contain the groupings of Spanish-, French- and small English-speaking communities. Most of the Caribbean islands shared similar histories with those three empires conquering them at some point.”

  “And after all that time, people still hang on to those divisions,” Athena remarked.

  He shrugged. “Some things in life we do without thought because it’s easy and predictable.”

  They turned down a road that was in better condition than the roadway. Athena strained to see through the dense foliage, but either side of the road was like a thick green wall of trees and vines. Unlike the main road they used, this one didn’t have any traffic, pedestrian or otherwise.

  “There is one driver assigned to the compound. If you need to go anywhere, he’ll take you. I’d advise that you take
someone into town with you.”

  “Problems with crime?”

  “We have the annoying problems with pickpockets. However, we rarely see deadly violence. Our most common disturbance tends to be fights after drinking too much. Doesn’t mean there isn’t an element to avoid. But I’ve warned the staff, and now I’m warning you, not to veer from the law with the wrong crowd or illegal product.” He glanced over to her and Athena grew conscious of his examination. “You’ll attract attention being new to the island…and your…” He flicked his hand in a quick motion from her head toward her feet.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, they see a woman from the States and immediately they think you’ll act a certain way or allow certain behavior. Hollywood has helped to sell that image. Dress conservatively.”

  “I think that I know how to conduct myself, Mr. Winslow.”

  “Didn’t mean to offend. And we’re all informal around here, Athena.”

  She found his manner prickly and irritating. She had common sense.

  Instead of continuing the discussion, he turned on the radio. With calypso music blaring through the truck, they approached a large iron gate.

  The concrete fence with barbed wire at its top, the black double gates and isolated location gave only one impression—prison. The Web site photo didn’t show the view from her approach. Instead the photo was a closer shot of the school with lots of children intensely participating in class sessions or milling around on the grounds with satisfied grins. That scene drew her here, not this incarcerated style.

  “Don’t let the level of security scare you. We’ve got several vans that we use to transport the kids to and from the school and for field trips. We also have computers that were donated and a variety of other expensive school supplies.”

  Athena nodded.

  Two uniformed guards stepped from their guard booths. Holstered weapons were in sight on their hips. They waved at Collin, but scrutinized her.

  “This is the new teacher, Athena Crawford. She’ll have her new ID on Monday.”

  “Yes, sir.” The taller guard provided a curt nod. “Welcome, miss.”

  Athena opened her mouth to greet him. The presence of the weapons didn’t scare her. Unfortunately schools like her public school in Chicago were no longer safe havens for children. Her gaze shifted and she spied the assault rifles within the guards’ reach in the booths. A thick layer of unease rippled down her spine. No doubt these guards meant business. But what level of violence were they so adamantly keeping out? The dryness of her mouth extended to her throat, closing off any sound. Collin revved the engine and rolled through the opened gates.

  “You’ll notice that the fence doesn’t extend to the back side of the property. That’s the irony of our high-security facility. There is a wall, but only as a retaining wall for bad weather.”

  “What about all the movable equipment and furniture, like computers, tables, chairs, copy machines.” In Athena’s experience, as a teacher in the Chicago public school system, new items tended to take a walk with no chance of recovery.

  “We have a tenuous relationship with the organized crime. We don’t bother them and in a way, they not only don’t bother us, but protect us. One of the former army generals who had delusions of grandeur built this place. He was deposed before he was done. A new owner leases the place to the school. Frankly it was cheaper for us to use a building that didn’t need many improvements and large enough for the school and staff dormitories.”

  Athena smiled, a tad unsettled to hear the colorful history.

  Her boss hit the horn twice, blasting away the quiet. Seconds later several doors opened from the buildings surrounding them. Men and women approached the vehicle. Athena followed his actions as he got out of the truck.

  “There are only a handful of men who live on the premises. All the women are housed here, including you.”

  “So much for a hotel room,” Athena muttered.

  “Our budget doesn’t allow for certain amenities.”

  Athena bit her lip, a bit embarrassed at being caught complaining.

  I knew what I was getting into when I applied.

  “Cicely, Thelma and Lorraine, this is Athena. Make sure you show her the ropes. I’ll complete the orientation around the facilities tomorrow. I’m sure that she’d like to freshen up before lunch.”

  The three women closed their huddle around her, shepherding her toward the farthest bungalow-styled building.

  She hadn’t been introduced to the men. But when she looked over her shoulder, Collin had their attention with instructions about unloading the truck. One of the younger guys had the job of following the women with her luggage.

  Not for the first time today, Athena wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

  New job.

  New home.

  New boss…who could give a young version of Poitier a run for his money.

  Chapter 3

  Athena looked toward the open door and then again at Collin, waiting for a reassuring sign from him that she’d be okay. Not that she didn’t trust the women hovering to meet her, but so far the only person she’d bonded with was him.

  “Hi, Athena, welcome.”

  Athena turned toward the enthusiastic greeter who stepped forward. The young woman’s sunny disposition and American accent reassured her.

  “I’m Cicely. Come on in.”

  “Where are you from?” Athena was glad that there was some type of connection with a coworker.

  “I’m from L.A. Wasn’t such a stretch to come here—weather-wise. People are a heck of a lot nicer, let me tell you.”

  Athena nodded, not sure what else to do. Cicely had a mega serving of energy that she hoped wasn’t a morning trait.

  “Let’s get you to your room. I’m Thelma.” Another smiling woman approached her. While Cicely had the blond girl image working in her favor, Thelma was a quiet brunette, with a strong accent. When she saw the curiosity in Athena’s expression, she added, “I’m an Aussie.”

  Thank goodness she didn’t make the mistake of asking if she was British. While Cicely could turn a few heads with her fresh, girly-girl disposition, Thelma reminded her of Jaclyn Smith—wholesome and elegant. Hopefully she could fit in. She had to fit in.

  While Cicely and Thelma argued about who would show her to her room, Athena looked out through the door. Not only was the doorway her exit from this new place called home, but it framed Collin like a life-size portrait of male physical prowess. Maybe he knew that he was being watched.

  Her gaze had its own zoom focus, honing in on him unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off well-defined shoulders. He tossed the shirt onto the side of the truck. And as if he wanted the world to see, he placed his hands on his hips and stretched back. She saw arms, forearms and flat stomach with the dark smoothness of his complexion glistening under the sun’s heat. Lean, sinewy muscles flexed, adding a touch of excitement to her secret delight. How in the world was she going to keep a level head around this man? Her body already reacted whenever he was near and now he’d managed to turn up the dial on her internal thermometer hovering just below the simmer line.

  He was a man in charge, with arrogance and control issues in abundance. Traits she found annoyingly sexy.

  Her married and unmarried line sisters would’ve gone juvenile, enjoying this exhibition. No doubt she’d probably have to beat back Naomi and her sister, Asia, from choosing straws to select the lucky one to go talk to him. Sara and Denise would’ve moaned at the fact that they were off the market.

  Now Asia had enough spunk to step up to the challenge, but she wasn’t into pursuing any man. Naomi, on the other hand, went after her men the way she played basketball for a pro women’s team—aggressive and ultimately successful.

  Pursuing a man sounded desperate. She sneaked in another glance at Collin. Acting on opportunities was simply innovative and entrepreneurial.

  “Um…Athena? Did you have more luggage?”

  “Excuse
me?” Athena pulled her gaze from Collin’s physique to her new coworker, Cicely. “Oh, yes…er, no. This is it.”

  Cicely had the two suitcases and carry-on tucked under her arm.

  “Please, I’ll take those.” Athena reached for the bags.

  Her silly behavior had displayed bad manners. She was more than embarrassed.

  “Not a problem.” Cicely led her down the hall past a series of rooms on either side.

  The front area had been decorated like a sitting room with three conversation areas. The kitchen and dining area were on the opposite side from the rooms forming the other horizontal portion of the T-shaped building.

  “We have rooms for eight teachers. Right now, with you here, we total four females and three males in the other building. There are four bathrooms. Every two bedrooms share a bathroom. Here’s your room. I hope you don’t mind being at the end. The room attached to your bathroom is empty. Figured you’d like your privacy.”

  Cicely unlocked the door and stepped aside.

  “Wow, are you sure this is for me?” Athena slowly entered her new sleeping area.

  The room resembled a hotel suite in a brochure for an island vacation. Blue and white floral-printed bedcoverings set against the light-colored furniture and wicker pieces suited the tropical backdrop. So lovely, she thought.

  Cicely laughed. “Actually all the rooms are decorated in similar style. But the end rooms have a tad more space. And of course, more windows, which, for you, looks out into the vegetable garden. The classrooms get the ocean view, not always the best choice when you’re trying to hold the children’s attention.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Athena meant it.

  “I’ll let you get settled. Would you like some lemonade? I’m sure you’re parched.”

  Athena’s stomach growled. “Sorry.”

  “Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. We tend to eat our main meals during the middle of the day. In the evening, we have supper which is a lighter fare.”